At an audition this week the casting director saw forth to impart her opinion that 'a great comic works mostly internally' in expressing her desire for smallness. So yet again the beast that is the camera rears its ugly head. I loooove being so over the top it's, as the Duke said, re-God-Damned-Diculous. Sadly, making a living at doing that, Leaky Heaven aside, seems to be fleeting. And screw those fuckers at Cirque du Soleil, they didn't know the ham-fistedness they passed on a while back.
And if you're reading this, Natasha, yes, Daddy occasionally swears. Doesn't mean you can. sigh.
Why is the key to the Universe balance in all things? Why is it neccessary in my career to discover a balance between my beloved over-the-top antics and the subtle movments required for working on camera? And why am I so resistant to the latter? Fear of success? If I were in Mack Sennett's pictures before these darned talkies came about, I'd already be a star, I tells ya. Me and Rudolph Valentino carousing for dames.
Born too late. That's me.
1 comment:
Ya, i kinda know that you swear lol
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