Movie diaries...four.

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The Other Oirish Witch

The hardest thing for an actor to do is to work with someone who s/he doesn't trust, especially in a situation where you're making things up as you go along. You need to know that your fellow actors aren't going to set you up and then leave you dangling for the crows to feast upon. The example we were taught at ren fest was when another performer comes to you and says "Come quickly, the Queen has requested our presence," you don't respond "No, she didn't," because you've just cut the legs out from under the other performer. It was called "Yes, and..?" and served to keep the flow going.

No matter what, you need to know whatever you toss out will be dealt with and moved forward, and that no one in the group will introduce a bit of action or dialog that the others can't work with.

As it says in the Scriptures: Verily I say unto thee, woe be unto the actor who abandons his people or shows himself unworthy, for he shall wander in the wilderness, and the others shall take up swords against him.

Or her. Something like that. Anyway, Oirish Witch Two, W2 we'll call her for brevity, shot herself - figuratively speaking - the first night we went out as characters. We'd gathered at The Westport Flea Market for dinner, in character, or what we had for characters at the time as it was still early in the game. Kate was there, so was Murphy, Gunslinger, Scholar, Oirish Witches One and Two, a couple of admins and a tech guy with a camera and microphone to take it all down.

We went around the table, socializing as people are wont to do when there's food and drink, and gunslinger chimed in with the question, "How long have you been with the organization and how were you recruited?"

(The Organization is how we referred to the agency that all our characters work for. Think Men in Black, without the funding or cool suits.)

So, one by one, we introduced our characters. Kate, the amnesiac, recruited by Bill after an all-night bender with some serious drugs and a couple of violent felons. Doug, the scholar, oldest member of the group. Bill, the audio tech. JD, our gunslinger the one with the most experience in the field. Murphy, the retired detective recruited out of retirement a year before, cynical and deep in his heart pissed as hell. While we all have a basic idea of what we are and where we're coming from, we're pretty much making it up as we go. We can do that.

We get to Oirish Witch 1 (remember her? Margaret Hamilton/Billie Burke/et al). Oh, I dunno, she says. Haven't spent much time on it. The thought passes between me, Murphy, and Kate: okay, you're done.

All eyes turn to W2 (except W1, who is holding forth on some subject no one is listening to). And how 'bout you, darlin, says JD. How long have you been with the organization?

Silence. You can see the wheels turning. Hear them, too, and the sound isn't pleasant. We all want her to make it, the little trailer park wench that could, mentally leaning forward the way a bowler will try to pull the ball from the gutter's edge by twisting his body.

If I tell you, I'll have to kill you, she cops out, finally.

You know how long it takes a actor to become persona non grata to the rest of the cast? The length of time it takes to say, "If I tell you, I'll have to kill you."

Ultimately, they both resigned from the film, much to the relief of the rest of us. Even the big, positive guy on the crew who always has a smile and never has an unkind word to say, is glad they're gone.

Now, we can begin the real work...

Comments

[billthetailor.livejournal.com]

I'm glad the stories are being enjoyed. I kind of wish there was a counter for this sort of thing. It would be nice to know how much the stories are being read.