Two Early Wallops: Part One
As fate would have it—and fate has often taken the lead as my dancing partner—back in 2009, circumstances were such that I chose to temporarily put regional theatre work on the back burner and stay rooted here in NYC for what I thought would only be a handful of months. Little did I know that my theatre trunks would be collecting dust for close to ten years.
Up until that time, I counted my blessings in having had three years at a practically perfect position as a Guy Friday floating as a temp through four floors of great people who provided me with flexibility to audition. But, as these things go, and quite suddenly the funding ran out and I found myself jobless with not a prospect. Not an uncommon thing in my life. Risks taken often aren’t apparent until the roof begins to cave in. But, thankfully—a friend thankfully pointed me towards what he thought would be a quick solution. I had bought into the Screen Actors Guild shortly after getting my first Principal contract with Actors Equity Association.
My first SAG challenge came with having to change my name as John Coughlan was already in their roster. Pretty sneaky for the Unions not to communicate stuff like this, I thought…I still think. So, I started to juggle with possibilities. With the clock ticking I finally landed on my confirmation name, John Alban Coughlan. A new identity and a mouthful of mispronunciations and misspellings to come. At least my parents were happy.
But, I digress...
So, after a year or two of my new SAG card collecting dust inside of my wallet, another close friend suggested that I consider registering myself with Sylvia Fay Casting for the newest film she was hiring background actors for—a contemporary take on the David Lean/Noel Coward classic, BRIEF ENCOUNTER. And, after an open call for the film, I was happily booked for my first three days of work under the aegis of the last of the Acting Unions I’d aspired towards since graduating B. U.. A great new adventure! I was to report to Grand Central Station on the first designated date for an overnight shoot.
I confess to being a total rube when I walked onto that first location. I was mesmerized by the oddly organized mix of crazy behavior and crackerjack efficiency—and before I knew it—I found myself surrounded by about two hundred other extras and told to form a line along the periphery of the Station. I was handed a union voucher and ushered quickly through wardrobe, hair and makeup until I found myself standing—spinning in place, actually—while waiting with the entire assemblage of background actors for last looks from wardrobe.
A line of Connecticut commuter cars were on the tracks before us. It was, at least, nice to think that we would most likely not be on our feet for the duration. We all held tight until a rather officious man was seen coming towards us who meticulously, began a slow crawl along our colorful ranks. Well, I’ve got a pretty keen eye for theatre faces and I knew, at once, that this man was Ulu Grosbard, the film’s director. Once he left the lineup we were told to quietly stay in place. And, then— I guess it was the Assistant Director—abruptly pulled both me and a young woman away from the group! All I could think of was—without knowing it—I was guilty of committing at least a Venal Sin but most probably a Mortal one. Mea Maxima Culpa.
I was crestfallen. My Irish/Roman Catholic guilt always had a tendency to rule in situations like this. So, due to this most grievous fault I was walked inside an empty train car and given a seat far afield from the woman I committed my untold crime with—two strangers unable to fraternize about whatever it was that we’d done wrong. I sat there long enough to assume that the night shoot had begun without us…When suddenly with a rush of crazy commotion—about a hundred extras invaded the interior of the car I was sitting in…And apparently having been told not to sit next to me or this other extra… scurried for whatever seat they found available to them. So, there I sat—solo, lonely—and being quite a blusher—most likely beet red with embarrassment. Again, a passage of time…Tick Tock—Tick Tock…Until, with a small entourage of primping makeup and hair crew—SHE walked in— and took the seat beside me.
And with a True Teaser’s intent—I pause...And ask you to join me once again here…next week.
Be well.
Stay engaged
