Acting Citizen: Auditioning (Part 1)

By James Knudsen

“Once more into the breach.”
    The famous words that propelled Henry’s forces against the walled town of Harfleur. This time it’s a far less heroic task, auditioning.
    In recent years, auditioning has become something I’m rarely asked to do. This has nothing to do with my fame, I have none. Nor my talent, I have only a little more of that. It is the result of the people casting shows knowing my work. The people involved with the group I auditioned for this past weekend may have seen my work, but their policy is, “everyone auditions.”
    I am not opposed to auditioning. I am not so full of myself as to think I shouldn’t have to, but it has been a few years, and even with decades of experience, the process is a humbling reminder that an actor’s work is never finished. The first reminder comes as I wait to perform the first portion of the audition, singing. I never introduce myself as a singer, I know too many singers to do that. I don’t read music, I can decode it, but that’s not the same thing, and most of the Italian terms and lines and symbols on the page mean nothing to me. On the plus side, I am blessed with a decent set of pipes and I am much more comfortable in the singing portion of auditions than I was twenty years ago. And still, my heart begins racing as I realize that my turn is fast approaching. Nerves. Mild panic? Or is my body just revving up so that I’m not a lifeless lump when I get up there? Whichever it is, the increase in heartrate and the attendant physical cues of anxiety arrive, and I note them.
    The song is, “Why Can’t I Walk Away?” from the musical, Maggie Flynn. The accompanist is good at his job and makes me sound better than I really am. It doesn’t hurt that the song sits well within my vocal range and the tempo and arrangement provide room for interpretation. The song is also brief enough that I don’t have to figure out an edit.

    Then we read a few scenes from the two musicals being cast: Guys and Dolls and Elf. I will admit that playing Sky Masterson would be a dream role, but it is not to be. I am a tad long in the tooth. Worse, most of the women being auditioned for the role of Sister Sarah Brown are too young for the scenes to be anything but cringey. That leaves the roles of Nathan Detroit, Benny Southstreet, and perhaps Harry the Horse. Upon arriving at the venue, I was asked if I would be reading for both shows. I had replied, “No, just Guys and Dolls.” Now, as I wait, the stage manager approaches and inquires as to whether I’d be willing to read for the role of Santa in Elf. The pandemic has resulted in a low turnout. My reply is a lukewarm “yes.”

Of the two shows, I know Guys and Dolls far better than Elf. The latter reflects the modern trend of scripts migrating from one medium to another in ways unheard of when I first performed in Guys and Dolls 42 years ago. For those unfamiliar, Elf began as a movie starring Saturday Night Live alum Will Farrell as a man raised by elves in Santa’s workshop at the North Pole. The 2003 film inspired the musical seven years later, bucking the traditional pattern of stage to film. In the 21^st Century anything goes. Actually, that’s not a good example. Anything Goes, the musical, inspired the 1936 film of the same name, which inspired the better-known remake in 1956.

I am the cop in the upper left.

Meanwhile, back in the theatre, I am being asked to read scenes involving the character of Sky Masterson. Unfortunately, the woman reading opposite me is young enough to be my daughter, unless you live in a red-state, in which case, I’m old enough to be her grandfather. As the gamblers of Damon Runyan’s world say, “I can give odds forever” that I won’t be playing Sky. The directors continue the process of winnowing down who will be called back and for what. I read a brief “Santa” monologue from Elf and I’m finished. With the singing and acting portion of the audition now over, I still have to dance.

    I don’t dance. I’ve often wondered why I was never able to translate the foot movements I mastered on the parade deck as a Marine into dance steps. A major issue is, I have no vocabulary. Dance auditions consist of learning a brief routine that the choreographer teaches a group of performers. And then the choreographer observes the group performing said routine. I’m standing in a small dance-rehearsal space, listening to the directions, which include words like, sashay, pony, arabesque, and I DON’T DANCE. Adding to my humiliation is the physical exertion involved that quickly becomes physical exhaustion because I DO NOT DANCE!
    I return to the theatre, bathed in sweat, to listen as the audition is wrapped up. We exit, one by one, and as we do, we are informed that we are or are not called back. I am called back for both shows and the stage manager hands me three pages of sheet music to “learn.”
    Callbacks, the thing every actor is striving for, are two days later for Guys and Dolls and three days later for Elf. Mercifully, there is no dancing.

Copyright © 2021 by James Knudsen