Sour Grapes

I auditioned for Everycity Shakespeare's fall production of Much Ado About Nothing.

I thought,

"What the heck? After seeing my performance as Puck in Midsummer, they'll probably want to use me as the young romantic lead. That would certainly pad my resume quite nicely...to have all these kooky roles and then a very serious dramatic sort of role stuck in there for good measure. That might be worth postponing my move to the NYC for!"

I wore one of my new outfits to the audition. I did my hair so it would fall just so, partially obscuring the right side of my face in a moment of Elizabethan passion. I looked very young romantic Shakespeare lead.

And I got called back for constable Dogberry's sidekick, the dottering old man. The smallest part in the show.

Sure, I was confused and slightly insulted, but I went to the callback anyway, still looking every bit the young lead, hoping my appearance would cause the director to think, "What am I doing calling him back for the comic walk-on role? Am I retarded? I must be! This guy is so dreamy and talented. And look at that beautiful hair! I bet he's got so many six packs under that untucked button-up shirt of his, it's like a St. Patrick's day party down there!"

Why weren't they letting me read for the young lover?

I found out why when Mungo walked in the door. His hair was buzzed, he had a swell tan, wore a very tight black shirt...and had the most disproportionately LARGE arms I can remember seeing on a person.

"You've got to be kidding," I thought as I looked at this dude's dull, empty eyes. "They're gonna cast him. They're freakin' gonna cast this guy as Claudio just because he's got huge guns."

I was not a happy camper on the drive home.

"Freakin' rassafrackin' big arms! Grouchafrackin' probably can't act! Bluster barfin' blithering biceps!"

I went to the park last night to see a little bit of The Tempest. One of the actors was running late. I was sitting in the very back of the lawn where I could observe everything. As I was people-watching, the late actor come in.

No, it wasn't Mungo. It was someone else. But, like Mungo, he had the same deformity.

He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and his monsterous arms fairly screamed, "Hey America! I do steroids!" I observed those freakish limbs and thought how peculiar it was that, having seen the show two and a half times, they didn't leave an impression on me.

Then I realized why they didn't leave an impression. Because you never see them! They're completely covered up by his flouncy pirate shirt!

The dude probably came into the audition and the director thought, "Wow! He looks like he could kick some pirate ass! Let's cast him!"

"But sir," says the stage manager, "There aren't any pirates in this show. There is no pirate ass-kicking."

"Who cares! I'm so dazzled by his disproportion that I just HAVE to cast him!"

Then--and this happens EVERY time--the costume designer completely covers them up.

All we're left with is a bad actor who has crazy-big arms we never even see.

Why do directors DO that?