Got Up and Gone.

The blogs are few and far between at the moment I know.
I've tried to resist writing whilst feeling I have nothing good to write about to balance up the bad. Now I have decided that the bad is part of the experience and has to be worth writing about too. I'm just all too painfully aware that the troubles of an unemployed actor are just not that interesting, and being in Los Angeles doesn't change that. I'm boring myself already.

As usually is the case exercise and social interactions are keeping me afloat. It's been nearly two weeks without an audition. Pilot season is wrapping up and with only two weeks left here and a legal status that means I can't pick up small guest roles, I'm not much use to anyone. So I went to the basketball. College basketball. A uniquely American experience. The competing school bands, cheerleading teams straight out of Bring it On and a national anthem sung in reverence, hand over heart, hats off and facing the flag. All of us. I've never felt that before. That kind of deeply held nationalism. It was uncomfortable for me and went some way to making me understand why being called Un-American is such an insult. When the ice-cream vendor (Getcha Ice Creeeaaammss!) walked past selling New Zealand Natural I smiled and relaxed again. Naturally I rooted for the underdog and Washington State came through to beat California State right at the very end. It was an exciting game and great to see these tremendous athletes doing their thing live. And great to see it at the Staples Centre. The beating heart of L.A Basketball. I'm going to Jay Leno on thursday. I don't know why. Because I can.

It occurs to me that in the Ten years since I graduated from Drama School I haven't been unemployed much. A little travel and a soul-crushing stint tele-marketing aside, I have been in constant work. The majority of actors aren't and I have been very lucky. Now I know what it feels like. I've never been big on 'networking'. No one has ever given me a job from a conversation or thinking I'm cool at a party. But here in 'Actor City' no one is going to know who I am without me telling them. Armed with that knowledge I have responded by hiding in my room, waiting for the phone to ring, watching my favorite tv show and rewriting a famous play into the version I want to direct. I'm guessing this is what most unemployed New Zealand actors do when not telemarketing or suchlike. I haven't really made the adjustment to being an L.A actor. I hoped I could show in an audition room what I could do and let my previous work speak for itself. I bombed on both of those accounts. Realistically I shouldn't expect much, this being my first time here. However, with a lead role in a tv series the only thing providing me with the cash to try it, it may be some time before I can try it again. I need to learn these lessons faster and respond better.

A friend, upon hearing that I was coming to L.A asked me why. Why did I want to leave New Zealand where I was doing so well? Where we made such great work and where life is sweet?
Those questions rattle round in my head as the days blur into each other. I certainly remember Why a month ago. I always wanted to be a film actor. I watch movies constantly, I love them. I spent years in the theatre learning my craft, loving every minute but having no idea I could ever be in a movie. Now I have been in a few. Small, small parts in massive films and massive parts in small, small films. I realise now that if I stay in New Zealand my chances of making a Science Fiction Film, a Pirate Film, a War film, any film where I can have a shot at a good character in a film with the resources to achieve its vision, are slim. We make maybe 4 films a year. With the film commission funding them, they are somewhat duty bound to explore our national identity. I love my country, and I know we have great stories to tell and we have wonderful storytellers to tell them. I hope to be part of that process. But I also want to make a Pirate Film. And a Space Film, and a Western. I want to work with my heroes. America is where that happens. I want in.

I'm Not Harry Jenson has been accepted into the Indie Spirit Film Festival in Colorado Springs. I won't be here then, but hopefully the film will get some notice. Two upcoming big jobs in New Zealand aren't interested in using me. Rejection is par for the course in this line of work. But, ouch, it hurts more when you're far away without a beer at the local with your mates. I fear with The Cult being labelled "A Flop" I may have to wait a while for the smell to wear off. In the mean time I'm going to have to find another day job when I get back to NZ. I apologize in advance for your lousy coffee or lukewarm steak and chips.

Dark days in Los Angeles. My Get Up and Go has Got Up and Gone. I admit temporary defeat and will hereby devote myself to writing a small cast gritty emotional drama that explores our national identity to make into a film for $4. (And secretly concoct a Western Sci-Fi Pirate film for me Sam Rockwell, Helen Mirren, David Lynch and Christoph Waltz-Yes and you too Serena. I'm still dreaming big Dad. Promise.)

G