Shoot!

When I was younger, I had many dreams. Some were far-fetched, like living on the Starship Enterprise, journeying to the center of the earth or just flying like that kid in “The Boy Who Could Fly”. Not all of my dreams were so extreme, some were actually quite modest, like being king of my own country or becoming a celebrated and statuette winning star of the stage and screen.

While I am convinced that someday, if I can just find the right hat or oversized shirt collar, I will go the way of Sally Field in “The Flying Nun” and be put into flight by a dainty breeze, I have pretty much realized that my other dreams were just the fantasies of a cute and rosy cheeked child who had unreasonable parents who refused to let him move to New York when I was fifteen. Or were they?

Saturday night Manuel and I responded to a personal invitation from the fabulous Anjali herself for dinner at her place. No sooner had we arrived than the cocktail shaker was put into full abuse mode, being shaken into a frenzy while we invented new and exciting combinations. Don’t you just love the fact that vodka, like cashmere, goes with just about everything? But I am digressing. Where was I? Oh yes. It was during this cocktail infused dinner that my phone rang. I saw the name on the display and answered it immediately.

“There is a shoot tomorrow for new television series. Are you available?” were the first words that floated into my ear.
“Yes”
“Can you be at Le Meridien hotel at eight?”
“In the morning?”
“Yes, eight in the morning”
“Of course”

It was already after ten in the evening and I switched immediately to water. Then I realized that there was no time to get a haircut. My Bangkok version of the ryan Seacrest had grown out. The only work I had done recently was a bit or writing and some voice-over work, none of which require grooming at any level. The last time the casting director has seen me, I was rocking my Ryan Seacrest. Now I had a beard. I had unkempt hair. I was beyond the help of product. My only saving grace would be the make-up team.

Then I realized I had no idea what I role I would be playing. What should I wear? How should I look? And then panic hit. Would they be so cruel as to cast me in the role of someone’s father? Me, who barely looks out of high-school? My head was reeling with the possibilities.

I went home and immediately to bed for my three hours of sleep. Not even shooting yet and already the life of a star. I was awake at four and officially up at five. There was trimming and exfoliating to be done. Moisture masks and teeth whitening. And then there was the issue of what to wear. I had no idea what the show was about or what I would play. I didn’t think to ask. All I heard were the words “series” and “shoot” and suddenly it was time to decide what to wear and I didn’t have a clue. I took one of everything. Dress shirt, jacket, polo shirt, t-shirt, dress shoes and sneakers and threw them all in a bag, got into the taxi and forty minutes later I was in the make-up chair getting ready for my numerous close-ups. I still had no idea what the heck I was doing, but I didn’t care. I was too busy enjoying the make-up chair.

Then came time for the scripts. I can’t say much about it as it has not launched, but it is a dramatic series which plays out in the world of luxury. I played one of the top people of a major luxury empire. Not quite a king, but perhaps a prince or a duke. It was so difficult for me to relate to the character, to understand his motivation, but I feel I made it work and brought a certain Golden Globe quality to the role.

So now, the question is, will the pilot get picked up and when do I shoot my cover of Vanity Fair?

Don’t worry Annie, I won’t pull a Miley on you. Or maybe I will…