Rose Buzz
Audition horror stories, from the cast of A Chorus Line When I was living in NYC, I went to an open call for a children's theatre. Upon our arrival, they asked us to pick out a monologue spoofing the classic fairytale character that we thought best fit our "type." All the girls were picking Cinderella's sarcastic monologue to the prince and getting laughs galore. I figured I wasn't really the princess type anyhow, so I'd set myself apart by doing the evil-plotting Wicked Witch of the West.
I wanted to embrace the horrific writing of the monologue to my best ability and decided to go big or go home. With a voice loud enough for the entire building to hear, and with some pretty intense Margaret Hamilton impersonations, I went all out. Not a single laugh from the auditors. So I went even bigger. It was getting worse by the sentence and still, no laugh and no cut off. After embarrassing myself thoroughly, a polite, "Thank you very much. We won't need to see anything more from you." Go big? Check. Go home? Check. -Mia Crivello (Bebe) My story has to do with an A Chorus Line audition itself. I had never done any tap dance in my entire life prior to the audition, so imagine the horror I felt when we were asked to do a tap routine. I had no idea what "flaps," "toe-heel," or "shuffles" were, and several times I was ready to walk out on the audition.
A friend who was also auditioning told me to just fake it, so I did... BIG TIME. I shuffled and stomped my feet the best I could, following the tap rhythm made by fellow auditioners. Well, I must have done a pretty good job because I got a callback to read for Connie, who is supposed to be bad at tapping. So now when you see me tapping very badly on stage, know that it's not acting – tapping REALLY is not my strongest point. -Amy Philips (Connie) I was called back for a regional production of Beauty and the Beast. They said they needed to see us "move." Thinking it would probably consist of some step touches and other simple choreography, I showed up just a few minutes early.
There were only four guys at the callback. It turned out the choreographer was a veteran of the Broadway company of Movin' Out, who considered three barrel turn leaps in a row "not too dance-y." So, without warming up, I began. On the third leap, I saw myself in the mirror and thought: "That's odd...I shouldn't be able to see myself at this moment." Walking out of the audition studio, I drew two conclusions: 1) I'd made a fool of myself, and 2) my back felt a little funny. As the afternoon went on, my back felt funnier and funnier. When I got home I decided to stretch to work out whatever kink I'd developed in my back. I bent over, touched the floor and then went to stand back up...but couldn't. I couldn't stand up; a 90-degree angle was the best I could do. I got down on the floor, laid on my back and stayed there for the next nine hours. In excruciating pain, I crawled to bed, where I stayed for the next three days. Fortunately, my doctor was able to write me some prescriptions for pain and muscle relaxation, (without which I would not have been able to start rehearsals to play Cosmo in Singin' in the Rain one week later). To this day, every so often I get a pain across the middle of my back exactly where I did on those fateful few days. All for a job I never booked. -Colin Pritchard (Bobby) I was in NYC auditioning for a show. I had a great singing audition and the team invited me to come back and dance. I asked them what style of dance, and they said, "oh just a fun and simple jazz combination." Great, I thought!
So I came back the next day ready to pull out my jazz hands and shimmer fingers. Well, little did I know that this "simple jazz combination" was actually going to be a Pop and Lock combo. You know, the robot? Yup, that was the dance combination. So here I am, this petite All-American girl trying to find her inner Hip Hop soul. Needless to say that I looked RIDICULOUS. I didn't book that one. -Lisa Schale (Maggie) |
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