Thank You Very Much: The Little Guide to Auditioning for the Musical Theater

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Summary: The New York Times Excerpt
Review: August 11, 2002
Thumbs Up or Down: In the Audition Arena
By STUART OSTROW

[M] Y recurring nightmare is sitting in a darkened Broadway theater auditioning a new show and saying "Thank you very much" to an actor who has just given a torturous performance of an old song. I see him in my mind's eye take something from his backpack, shout tauntingly, "How dare you say thank you to me!" and then fire a round from his .45-caliber Glock pistol into my head.

Auditioning for a show is the most uncivilized practice for humans since the barbarous exhibition of the Roman gladiators. A more sanguine view would be to think of it as training for the Last Judgment. Here are some of the other faces in the crowd:

THE PRODUCER Producers outnumber their casts today. They are a consortium, a corporation, or a gathering of landlords. Be forewarned: Nowadays, inexperienced producers defer to their directors - until their show runs into trouble. Then they go nuts and robotically fire the costume designer and replace the second lead.

THE DIRECTOR The director is always looking over his shoulder. He is in charge of the show but can be fired by the producers. The mission of directors is to insulate themselves from the vicissitudes of showbiz, so they always hire a cast that can deliver their special talent. Bob Fosse hired dancers, Mike Nichols and Jerry Zaks look for comics and British directors opt for actors with technique.

THE ASSISTANT Assistants help the director organize the details of his or her production and frequently proffer casting suggestions. They are ambitious apprentices who almost certainly have less money than you and work for the exhilaration of discovery by checking out every Off Off Broadway show, revue, cabaret and piano bar for new talent. In the 1950's, Harold Prince was the assistant stage manager for George Abbott; Stephen Sondheim was a gofer for Oscar Hammerstein II; and I plugged songs for Frank Loesser. Find out who the new assistants are; they are the future.

Performers often ask: Do I sing a song written by the auditioning composer or lyricist? Recite an author's monologue from his or her past play? Dance the choreographer's steps from a previous show? The answer is: Only at your own peril. Creators sing, play and dance their work in their heads. No actor can ever really live up to what they hear and imagine.

Here are some suggestions from nine decades of 20th-century songwriting (women's songs are indicated with a "w"; men's with "m"):

(w) "Bewitched" (Lorenz Hart, Richard Rodgers), from "Pal Joey," has a languid melody and coarse lyrics not for the faint of Hart. The real object of attack is sex, and if you're a rich, ready, ripe little plum, this is your pudding. Think Mrs. Robinson.

(m) "A Ghost of a Chance" (Victor Young, Ned Washington) is an opportunity for a leading man to play lack of self-confidence. This broken-hearted ballad will mellow the most bravura singer, and the lyric might even make him look skinny. Be brave; all you have to lose is your cliché.

(m) "Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive" (Johnny Mercer, Harold Arlen) was written for Bing Crosby, whom Artie Shaw called "the first hip white person born in the United States." The half-preacher, half-hipster song urges you to latch on to the affirmative and not mess with Mister In-between. Have fun with the words and rhythm.

(m, w) "Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries" (Lew Brown, Ray Henderson), a hit song written for Ethel Merman in "George White's Scandals of 1931," is the perfect outlook for any depression. Its philosophy - that we're on a short holiday and should live and laugh at it all - will especially resonate with those in a cold, dark theater who have been auditioning actors all day long. Ask the stage manager to put you on last.

Too many of you, reading this, are kidding yourselves. It's a grueling profession and precious few actors ever reach the top. So why are you on this journey? If you can answer the question without using the words money, glamour, fame, romance or sex, you have the right to be taken seriously.

Stuart Ostrow, a theatrical producer, is the author, most recently, of ``Thank You Very Much: The Little Guide to Auditioning for the Musical Theater'' (Smith and Kraus), from which this article has been excerpted.