ah, end of the world dreams
Jan. 23rd, 2004 07:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rmStupid dream time again.
This time I was up on some space station rehearsing something or other when our president launched about 50 missiles at something or other. I saw them, out the window of the space station, and I whispered about it to someone on the crew, saying "you know, the show must go on and all that, but I really think you should let the director know."
The crew member does, and soon thereafter we're all watching TV broadcasts about it, and then finding out that all the space stations will be shut down and go to emergency power, forcing us to emergency evacuuate, because the president refuses to leave targets in space. My mother of course calls me hysterical from her place of work.
But not leaving targets in space means we're on our own to evacuate and we somehow manage to crash land the thing in the middle of second avenue without dying (this is a long vivid sequence filled with suspense up until the last moment that of course also manages to tear the concrete on second avenue the fuck up).
Then we're at my parents house. Liev Schreiber's on the kitchen phone calling his mom to tell her he's not dead. I say something inane along the lines of "look, I probably shouldn't make this offer without talking to them," I say randomly gesticulating to mean my parents who aren't there, "but if you need to crash or use the shower or anything, go for it."
He laughs, in the way you do when nothing is really funny, and says thanks noting that since he's covered in stage make-up, fake tattoos and a shitload of dirt from that crash landing business, that might be a good idea. Besides, Metro North isn't running. End of the world and all that.
I ask him if it was weird. He asks what I mean by "it." Being in the midde of actually acting (apparently, I'm an extra in space too) when it happened. He smirks a little, "I think the missiles we're pretty weird regardless."
"Right," I say, a bit embarassed and nod, and tell him where the towels are.
This time I was up on some space station rehearsing something or other when our president launched about 50 missiles at something or other. I saw them, out the window of the space station, and I whispered about it to someone on the crew, saying "you know, the show must go on and all that, but I really think you should let the director know."
The crew member does, and soon thereafter we're all watching TV broadcasts about it, and then finding out that all the space stations will be shut down and go to emergency power, forcing us to emergency evacuuate, because the president refuses to leave targets in space. My mother of course calls me hysterical from her place of work.
But not leaving targets in space means we're on our own to evacuate and we somehow manage to crash land the thing in the middle of second avenue without dying (this is a long vivid sequence filled with suspense up until the last moment that of course also manages to tear the concrete on second avenue the fuck up).
Then we're at my parents house. Liev Schreiber's on the kitchen phone calling his mom to tell her he's not dead. I say something inane along the lines of "look, I probably shouldn't make this offer without talking to them," I say randomly gesticulating to mean my parents who aren't there, "but if you need to crash or use the shower or anything, go for it."
He laughs, in the way you do when nothing is really funny, and says thanks noting that since he's covered in stage make-up, fake tattoos and a shitload of dirt from that crash landing business, that might be a good idea. Besides, Metro North isn't running. End of the world and all that.
I ask him if it was weird. He asks what I mean by "it." Being in the midde of actually acting (apparently, I'm an extra in space too) when it happened. He smirks a little, "I think the missiles we're pretty weird regardless."
"Right," I say, a bit embarassed and nod, and tell him where the towels are.
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Novelist Seeks Input
Date: 2004-01-23 05:25 am (UTC)Now, not being an actor and living here in Italy, I can't properly research in person what the audition process is like. Maybe if you can spare a moment you can give me some details of the experience.
I presume auditions occur at the theater where the play will be peformed, and I also presume the girl stands on stage and sings a song or speaks some lines, with the director and producer and others in the seats looking up with grim looks on their faces.
Anything along these lines you can send my way will be deeply appreciated. Also, if you have actor friends who might be willing to share, please give them my email address: Palcewski@hotmail.com
Thanks!
John Palcewski
Forio d' Ischia, Italia
Re: Novelist Seeks Input
Date: 2004-01-23 05:30 am (UTC)The performer will have secured her auditon probably through an agent, although possibly through mailing a headshot in, or by waiting for a very long time, very early in the morning on an open call line.
Re: Novelist Seeks Input
Date: 2004-01-23 05:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-23 09:12 am (UTC)God, that so reminds me of that scene in The Core where the Space Shuttle crew land her in a drainage ditch in the middle of a huge city - heh!
That's pretty good, y'know. You should send it to Spielberg as a premise ;O)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-23 10:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-23 10:43 am (UTC)Just for the trivia value...
Date: 2004-01-27 08:30 am (UTC)Re: Just for the trivia value...
Date: 2004-01-27 08:34 am (UTC)