Halfway There?

I had to stop going to auditions thinking, ‘Oh, I hope they like me.’ I had to go in thinking I was the answer to their problem. – George Clooney

Last weekend, I had an audition for a local production of the musical Jersey Boys. For those who aren’t aware, Jersey Boys is the story of The Four Seasons, an American pop group from the 1960s. I wish the show had come around earlier, as a younger version of me (with a wig, of course) would’ve been able to play Frankie Valli, no problem. However, I know who I am in 2024. I know what I look like. I know what my type is. So I went into that audition knowing that my best shot at a role was Angelo “Gyp” Decarlo, a mobster who had an influence in the lives of the members of the group.

Like the George Clooney quote above, when I go into an audition, I want the production staff to think that I am the answer to a problem, or the person that can fill a need. I also want them to think that I, in the modern parlance, understood the assignment. In this particular case, what that means was that I wanted to prepare a monologue that had some kind of gangster ties.

I don’t like doing film monologues for stage auditions. I don’t think the same things that work on film necessarily work live, and vice versa. And, unfortunately, there aren’t a ton of plays about gangsters. Movies? Oh…there are a lot of movies, as we all know. But not a lot of plays. Fortunately, one of my favorite gangster movies was a play first. A one man play, which, when you think about it, might be the best source for a monologue. The whole thing’s a monologue. That movie/play is Chazz Palminteri’s A Bronx Tale. This was an especially good choice for Jersey Boys, because a lot of that show is written as audience addressed narration.

I walked into the audition room confident. There were five people in the audition room, 3 of whom I didn’t know at all. One who I worked with once almost 20 years ago, and one who I am very good friends with. I sang “Pleasant Valley Sunday” by The Monkees (the audition had specifically asked for a pop song from the 60s or 70s), and then launched into my monologue. I felt like I had knocked it out of the park. Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Just because I felt good about the audition doesn’t mean it was good. I’ve known a lot of actors over the years with “irrational confidence”. And even if the audition was actually good, it doesn’t mean that I was the answer to their problem. However, in this case, they saw enough in me to call me back.

So, hopefully, when I go into the callback on Saturday, I’ll be able to further answer their problem, and I’ll have a show to do at the end of the summer and into fall.