Post by kaliszewski on Apr 21, 2008 16:12:58 GMT -5
... just to avoid the word-catcher in the thread title 
Just for the halibut (and ha! again, word-catcher!), I went to Odebolt, Iowa, on Sunday for the open-call extras casting for Cillian's new movie, Peaco[c]k, which is due to begin filming in the first week of May. An adventure! Ten hours driving deserted back-highways on a sunny day! I forget how drastically the scene shifts when you cross from Minnesota into Iowa: Minnesota, at least the southern third, has cosmopolitan pretensions (and the strip malls, McMansions, and spastically rude drivers to match); Iowa (at least the northern part) does not. It's like sliding back in time forty years or so. Beautiful, open sky-- and beautiful, open, rolling nothing below.
I wasn't expecting to audition. I did it as a lark, and I know nothing will come of it. After all, there can't be much call for "androgynous, short, stocky, and Slavic-looking" in a film about small-town Midwestern farm country. (Unless we're talking a biopic about my great-grandparents-- and this ain't it.) Especially when "androgynous, short, stocky, and Slavic-looking" hails from two hundred and eighty miles away. But the casting director was kind enough to see me and put me through my paces, and it was a fun experience. Not to mention, any excuse to roadtrip in the Mini in decent weather with the stereo blaring: heck, I'll take it!
Just for the halibut (and ha! again, word-catcher!), I went to Odebolt, Iowa, on Sunday for the open-call extras casting for Cillian's new movie, Peaco[c]k, which is due to begin filming in the first week of May. An adventure! Ten hours driving deserted back-highways on a sunny day! I forget how drastically the scene shifts when you cross from Minnesota into Iowa: Minnesota, at least the southern third, has cosmopolitan pretensions (and the strip malls, McMansions, and spastically rude drivers to match); Iowa (at least the northern part) does not. It's like sliding back in time forty years or so. Beautiful, open sky-- and beautiful, open, rolling nothing below.
I wasn't expecting to audition. I did it as a lark, and I know nothing will come of it. After all, there can't be much call for "androgynous, short, stocky, and Slavic-looking" in a film about small-town Midwestern farm country. (Unless we're talking a biopic about my great-grandparents-- and this ain't it.
) Especially when "androgynous, short, stocky, and Slavic-looking" hails from two hundred and eighty miles away. But the casting director was kind enough to see me and put me through my paces, and it was a fun experience. Not to mention, any excuse to roadtrip in the Mini in decent weather with the stereo blaring: heck, I'll take it!
