Prayers For Bobby
I've been a thespian all my life. Well, not actively all my life, but at heart I've always been one. I love the theatre and acting. Never have been a professional, mind you, I starred in church plays as a kid, and had lead roles in my high school's annual musicals. I played the suave, wealthy and debonair French lover, Emile, in "South Pacific," and I was the incorrigible and irascible Music Man in … well, "The Music Man." In college, I majored in music and minored in theatre, and as a freshman I got a supporting role in "My Fair Lady." I was one of the three drunken bum friends of the groom, dancing and singing along with him in a rousting carnal sparkle of inebriation, "Get me to the church on time!" As a sophomore I played one of the poker players in the comedic stage play "The Odd Couple," and landed a lead role in Arthur Miller's serious stage play "All my Sons" as the defiant son, Chris. That's pretty much the extent of my sterling young adult acting resume.
Great fun, all of it. The people of the theatre are, and the community of theatre is, a remarkable arena – chocked full of interesting characters, people who are so alive, so full of verve and optimism (well, mostly – there are a lot of neurotics on stage as well, believe me), and I sometimes wish I had pursued that career. I made a choice when I was twenty. It was a toss-up between the two arts for about a year. But the 60's hippie movement swooped over me, got me tuned in and turned on, and I dropped out of school, deciding to go into music. Joined a rock and roll band and went off on a fifteen year trip into the world of sex, drugs and rock and roll. That's another blog I'll share one day – maybe a whole book.
It wasn't until I was in my early fifties that I returned to acting, and this time it was on camera. The movies! My debut was as the character Joe, a non-historical henchman and muscle guy for Al Capone in the low-budget locally (Detroit) produced movie, "Turn Left on Hastings Street."(Watch the sort clip – I'm the guy in the middle of the barbershop scene and I'm also standing just behind Capone in the 2nd to last shot).
Wow, I had so much fun! I was on the set for dozens of shootings, had several speaking scenes, got to carry a gun, cuss a lot, beat up people and shoot 'em, it was just wonderful. Acting is like that. You can be the worst most despicable character in the universe, commit all these horrible acts, and then go home and sleep like a baby because it was only for pretend. The experience was exhilarating and cathartic. Only one problem.
The movie sucked. Debut reviews were abominable.
And they weren't wrong, either. I was at the premier opening, and had to sulk out of there before it was over to avoid being identified as one of those guilty of attempting to launch such a hideous open running sore on the body of cinematography. Thank god hardly anyone ever saw that pathetic excuse for a movie. I had suspected maybe a B or C rate film. When I say it was low budget, that's exactly what I mean. Only three or four of the actors were union card-carrying (semi) professionals, all the rest (including me) were just a bunch of amateurs who fancied themselves actor wannabes. We weren't even getting paid. Now, I'm not just blowing a mighty wind up yours, but I was actually one of the better actors on the set, and I hadn't acted in thirty years and had never taken an acting class since college. The cameras were hand held, the sets were unauthentic, the castings and costumes were hodge-podge, it all spelled bad movie. But Hells Bells, I never expected anything that shamefully awful.
Fortunately, my movie star (yeah, right) career has been somewhat redeemed. Just a couple months ago, I had the good fortune to get called in by my talent agency, Real Style, to do an "extra" bit in a made-for-TV Lifetime movie starring Sigourney Weaver, titled "Prayers for Bobby." (based on Prayers for Bobby - the book by the same title). Now, don't go getting the impression I'm now some professional actor, I'm not. Not even trying to be. My son-in-law, Jonathan Royce, is a professional model. He is promoted by and works for Real Style. Several months ago, knowing that I enjoyed acting, he alerted me to an "Open Call" the agency was holding in Detroit. An Open Call is an occasion where you need not have an agent or an invitation to go and do an audition. Just walk in, fill out an application, answer some resume and background questions, have a mug shot taken, then it's "We'll call you if we need you," and goodbye. So I went, and I must have made a favorable impression, because when the agency got the call and contract from the California-based movie production company to provide the local extras for the film, I got the email to come in for a shoot.
This time I was treated to a first class, professional experience in the world of movie making. Lead roles were acted by veteran professionals; the camera crew and equipment were all top shelf, the director, Russell Mulcahy, is this classic Australian character, a svelte little guy with the typical down under accent, a groovy deep voice and all the maxi of a world traveling big shot movie director. Friendly, too. Real down-to-earth stand up guy. We were served a generous, tasty and nutritious lunch. There were attendants, employees of Real Style, that kept the day and all the activities well organized with everyone knowing when and where they were needed. They had professional makeup crew and wardrobe crews. And get this – I even got paid! A hundred clams for the (twelve hour long) day. Wow! Even with the cost of gas these days, I actually made a couple bucks in exchange for having a really good time.
I played the part of a city counsel member. The scene was where Sig (I've met her now, so I can call her that – lol), in the role of Mary Griffith, the mother of a deceased homosexual teenager who committed suicide (out of feelings of shame and guilt), is presenting her proposal to the city council to have an annual Gay Celebration Day. This movie is set in a small red-neck town in southern California two decades ago, mind you, so you can imagine the fuss she was stirring up. The packed City Hall was sweaty, restless and noisy. I had no speaking parts, I was just supposed to sit there and act involved, interested, and react with visible emotion to the spoken lines. Easy peasy. For a pro like me. (smile)
But the best part for me was seeing in person the famous Sigourney Weaver work her art. The Hall Room scene was shot from more angles and takes than a crooked politician's answers at a congressional hearing, and "take twenty two, action!" was rolling around before she actually made it through all her lines without goofing it up! Ha. Obviously she had just been rehearsing her speech in her personal trailer only shortly before the scene started shooting. She stumbled and bungled her way through enough takes, cuts and retakes until she finally had it down, and then … POW! She nailed it. Flat out. Brought tears to my eyes. Awesome. I was not impressed with her preparation ethic, but I left the experience in awe of her special talents. You got game, Sig.
Why do I share this experience with you today? After all, this is primarily a writers blog, right? What's the relevance? Well, for one reason, I was asked to share it by several of this blog's readers. But beyond that, I think as writers we owe it to ourselves to experience life in as many ways as possible. To get out and do stuff. To have varied and interesting experiences, ranging everywhere from mild to wild to borderline dangerous - to have many interests and hobbies, to meet and make different kinds of friends from all walks of lives and backgrounds, and just in general to live a lot and live large. For me, at least, it's a formula for building up a database of invaluable fodder for the pen. I read somewhere years ago that Ernest Hemmingway was a mercenary. Did you know that? He would find a war going on somewhere in the world, go over there and sign up (for money) to fight for one side or the other. He didn't really care so much who won; he just wanted to be there, right in the midst of the violence, the gruel harsh reality of war, experiencing the vicious raw intensity of the most savage brutal drama of human existence. War.
Well, I'm not going that far, nor do I suggest you do. But here's to living life to the fullest, and writing about it -whether in biographies, enlightening and informative non-fiction works, or engaging novels that have relevance and insight.
Books by Marvin D Wilson (Buy One - buy two!)
I ROMANCED THE STONE(Memoirs of a Recovering Hippie)
and
OWEN FIDDLER(A Modern Day Parable)