Bad to the Bone

Called to audition for a low budget independent movie, I sat down with the director at a round table. She passed me a bound copy of the screenplay. Another actress sat across from me ready to read lines in tandem from her own copy.

The director asked, “Do you know what this movie is going to be rated?”

My eyes lifted from the thick script that I was busy digesting. Incorrigible violent jailbirds on the run, I gleaned. I looked at her deadpan. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“Just so you know what you are getting into.”

While studying the script in preparation for my first read through for a policeman’s role, a small dog appeared out of nowhere to brush the side of my leg and pant.

The director remarked, “Our dog doesn’t like anyone. This is a good sign.”

As I leafed my fingers through the dog’s fluffy fur, he faithfully sat by my feet. I hoodwinked, “Maybe I should just audition with the dog.”

“Don’t get too attached. A convict eats the mutt in act one scene 6. You’re looking at barbecue dog.”

“Like I said, I have a pretty good idea what this movie is rated.”

The director got back to matters at hand. “Let’s take it from the top. You’re interviewing a high school girl in provocative clothes and you don't believe a f#c%ing word she is saying…”

Forty minutes later, the copper role was awarded to me. My part has 13 lines, four scenes, two interrogations, a chase scene, and I am scripted to deliver the first and last lines of the movie. If nothing else, this should definitely expose me for the actor that I am or am not.