A Lesson about Fame

A lesson in fame thanks to a botched audition.

I was trying out for a role in "I ♥ Huckabees". I was to play a young girl in an elevator who asks to go to the fifth floor. It was a very small part, just a few lines, but an opportunity to finally get my SAG card, plus I'd get to act with the dreamy Jude Law. The audition took place in a rented theater in Century City. David O. Russell was there but Jude wasn't. I wish Jude had been there, maybe he could have helped me.

David was set up on a large wooden stage, a few were people milling around with their hands full of papers, dodging the various props that had been gathered around a large wooden desk. A bicycle, a base drum, a stuffed Moose, and a motley collection of esoteric items were on the stage, it looked almost like a circus. Mr. Russell paced anxiously like a zoo animal in a cage, barefoot and with a large chaw of tobacco pinched tightly in his cheek, loudly spitting the saliva waste into one of those cheap 32 ounce plastic cups from Jack in the Box.

An assistant led me to an 'X' made out of duct tape affixed to the floor directly in front of Mr. Russell.

"Stand on the 'X' and wait for David to notice you.", she pointed to an 'x' duct taped onto the floor. It was worn and old, like a thousand feet had been on top of it before mine. The assistant continued.

"When David notices you, read your lines. Read them no matter what he says.", she said to me with a smile. "Trust me. I know it's weird but it's his way."

I took a deep breath and stepped on the 'X'.

I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, in my audition pose--big smile, tightened glutes, wide eyes--until my muscles began to twitch with fatigue. He finally looked up from his handful of typewritten pages and gave me a very quick glance.

"No, no, you're not right for the part. You look like a bug. No bugs in my movie.” he said as he looked me over. I began to read my lines anyway, just as his assistant told me to do.

"Can you press five please?” I said--acting my ass off, breathing life into each word. David looked as if I had just slapped him in the face.

"What did I say bug girl?” he screamed then jumped off the stage and ran over to me. He ran up to me, and for a moment I thought he may trample me underfoot but he stopped a few inches from me, wild eyed, tobacco juice dripping from the corners of his mouth.

"You know what?", he said as he leaned in real close to me, his sour tobacco breath nearly making my eyes water.

"You have no business standing on my X!", he said as he shoved me back, off his duct tape.

"Give up acting, because you F---ING SUCK! That was the worst line reading I've ever heard. You've shamed my duct tape 'X' you little c--t! YOU'VE SHAMED IT! NOW GET OUT!", he gazed at me like a madman. "GET OUT BEFORE I IMPALE YOU ON THIS SPEAR!", he leaped back onto the stage and wrestled a large, deadly-looking spear from a mound of props and held it above his head as if making ready to throw.

I then noticed the assistant who walked me to the 'X', the one who told me to read my lines no matter what, was laughing. She had tricked me. I threw my script onto the floor and I barely made it out room before the tears rolled down my face.

On the ride home I lay across Mother's lap. She stroking my hair gently as Rhodes, our driver, drove us home. I was a wreck and even questioning my life's dream to become famous. Were the past ten years a waste? Is this what if feels like to be washed up at twelve?

"I'll never be an actress.” I mumbled.

Mother grabbed me by the ear, just hard enough to make it hurt. She took a drag from her Mild 7 and gave me a deep stare.

"Listen here", she said, "David O. Russell” ,she exhaled, "Let me tell you something about him."

She took another drag from her smoke, wearing a look of serious calm.

"You know what the 'O' is for?” she asked as she pulled my ear a little more.

"The O is for the shape his lips make when he's smokin' a pole. A real lady doesn't do such things unless there's jewelry involved. And David O. is no lady."

Mother used to be a showgirl and sometimes she gets quite blue, especially when she's angry. I doubt David O. Russell ever 'smoked a pole', she was speaking out of anger. Yet, it made me feel better and I guess that's the point.

This all happened three months ago. I've since decided to ignore negative people like Russell and work on my own thing--my own world, my own universe. Fame will come. Who cares what some pompous movie director thinks? I'll get my SAG card in spite of him. I'll be famous in spite of him. Fame is too good. I want more, and no tobacco chewing prick like David O. Russell is going to keep me down.

I'm going to work with Jude someday, I know it.