52 Sketches in 52 Weeks: YouTube's Not Funny

YouTube's Not Funny (#33)

There's something about hearing "This is hilarious" that instantly makes you not want to laugh. I guess so much about humor involves the element of surprise that the joke loses power if you know to expect it. When you have somebody waiting for you to laugh at something, "that's a lot of pressure." 

Tried to disguise the ambient noise with "YouTube noises" that are supposedly coming from the computer, but I don't know how successful I was. I just moved into this apartment, so we didn't really realize how noisy things would be. Ah well. My new roommate Nate totally stepped up to the plate in the 11th hour though and went toe to toe with Zach for us!

And speaking of Zach, YES. Zach is back. Woooooot!

52 Sketches in 52 Weeks: Cat Bowties (Wait, we started?!)

Whoo boy. Lots to discuss. But first... Here's a link to the first video:

Cat Bowties #1

Alright, so judging from early feedback (which ranges from "LMAO!!!!" to "I hated it") you either had a good time or were left scratching your head, wondering what the heck you just watched. Either reaction is okay. It's kinda how you're supposed to feel.

Tim and Eric (examples of which can be viewed here and here) are notorious for making supercharged pieces of comedy that basically crank up the intensity to the point where logic snaps and the viewer is bombarded with absurdity. The goal isn't so much to tell a story as to basically assault your senses as brutally as possible. (They're kind of a comedic version of Antonin Artaud's work with theater of cruelty.)

I set out to emulate that style with Cat Bowties, and then Matt took it to a whole other level in the editing chair. As far as I'm concerned, we were totally successful. 

That being said, this wasn't really supposed to be the first episode of our series. For every one person who thinks Tim and Eric is funny, there's another fifteen people who hate it. I know this kind of stuff is really polarizing, and I would've rather posted a more user-friendly introduction. Buuut some wires got crossed and it wound up getting posted first. Actually... we weren't supposed to launch at all for another week. Whoops! 

Anyway, we are officially moving, and I have no idea where we're headed. It's a totally terrifying feeling, to be honest. I can't help but envision the whole project crashing and burning, with everyone I know and respect just shrugging and saying "I don't get it." I woke up this morning and I felt like a giant anchor was wrapped around my barely-floating artistic career. Basically the same question hit me that, I suppose, hits everyone who tries something ambitious: "What if I suck?" 

But my philosophy has always been that if I'm scared of the project, that means that I took risks and tried some things that were outside of my comfort zone. That, in my humble opinion, is what an artist is supposed to be. It's certainly how one grows. Somewhat perversely, the only ones who get to decide if it's a success or a failure is you, my esteemed audience. All I can do is offer as many burnt offerings to you as possible in the hopes that one of them is pleasing to your mighty appetite for entertainment. 

So yeah, go me. Sound off in the comments section about what you thought about our crazy video, and if you've ever been scared of failing! Did you triumph or crumple? I starve for your stories!!!

Keep It Simple, Stupid! How Commercial Casting Directors Don't Care About Your Amazing Acting Skills.

So I was at a commercial audition yesterday. I walked into the room with a few other guys and the director says "Just walk an imaginary dog onscreen, stand there a few seconds, and walk off." That was the ENTIRE audition. Easy, right? Well... not so much.

The first thing I'm thinking about is OMG!!! This is a NATIONAL COMMERCIAL, so if I got this gig it would be the biggest thing I've done with my career so far. Adding to which, this sucker pays in the THOUSANDS of dollars for ONE DAY of work. I just have to show this casting director that I'm the best mute dog walker in LA!!!

Suddenly there's this enormous pressure to knock this guy's socks off. This feeling is worsened by the fact that there are three or four other actors in the room who look exactly like me, doing the exact same thing. I have to outdo them!!

How can I show this guy what an absolute joy I am to work with? Should I laugh really loudly at everything he says? Should I make a few desperate jokes to try to make him laugh? Maybe when I walk on camera I can say something witty so he can see how funny I am! Or I can at least blast him with my best good ol' Kentucky boy-next-door smile! I can't just stand there, holding an invisible leash... That's boring! These guys have seen dozens of actors today and they're going to see dozens more. MUST. STAND. OUT.

So I did something that I'm very proud of: I walked onscreen. I stood there a few seconds, holding an invisible leash. I walked offscreen.

It felt awful. Every bone in my body was like "You're blowing it! You're blowing it!" But I stayed natural. Wasn't even really all that aware that there was a camera on me. However, the guy right after me did all kinds of flashy things... and he looked RIDICULOUS.

Your Commercial casting director probably isn't looking for this guy.

When you get a direction as simple as that, the harsh fact is that they probably aren't looking for your Oscar-worthy acting chops. Several commercial casting directors I know have admitted that in those situations they really just want to see what your eyes look like on camera. Or how your nose looks compared to somebody else. Or, yes, sometimes how stacked your breasts are. In situations like that, there's not a whole lot that you can do to boost your odds outside of being present and FOLLOWING THEIR DIRECTION. Anything extra will probably just give them an excuse NOT to cast you. Show them how professional you are and even if you don't get cast in this one, maybe they'll call you in again in the future. 

I walked out of that room feeling totally confident that I had, in a way, given a fantastic audition. So, you know, score one for the good guys. If this were a fairy tale, my restraint would have been rewarded with a call from my agent telling me that I booked the job. In reality, I spent the rest of my evening sitting beside a silent phone, playing some Zelda. Such is life, I suppose.

Have you ever had a similar experience? Or maybe you hammed it up and it DID help? Maybe you're a pro and you have some advice? Tell me all about it!

Nathan